


the fourth ain't comin'

by leiascully



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Firefly, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-04
Updated: 2010-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unification Day brings a few surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fourth ain't comin'

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: n/a  
> Concrit: Welcome  
> A/N: For [**miabicicletta**](http://miabicicletta.livejournal.com/), who wanted bromance. This doesn't follow any timeline or hang together properly in any universe, but can we all agree that it would be awesome? Three of my favorite rocketmen, pulling heists and drinking beer. Yes! Happy _Star Wars_ Day.  
>  Disclaimer: _Firefly_ and all related characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, and Fox. _Star Wars_ and all related characters are owned by George Lucas and LucasFilms. _Battlestar Galactica_ and all related characters belong to Ronald Moore, NBC Universal, Sci-Fi Channel, and Sky One. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

They scrambled up the ramp and Mal slapped the button that closed the deck. "C'mon," he said, jerking his head over his shoulder. "Getcha something for those bruises."

Sam and Han followed him up the stairs and down the corridor to what looked like the mess. Mal opened a cooler and tossed them each a chilled can.

"Ain't much," he said, pressing another can to his cheekbone, "but it'll take down the swelling some, 'least until my doc shows up to patch up our sorry asses." He rummaged in the cooler again and pulled out a bottle of something. "Here we go. Good for what ails you." He put three glasses on the table.

"I'm okay," Sam said, applying his can to his jaw and wincing. "Nothing worth putting a bandage on, anyway. What about you?"

"Been worse," Han said. He leaned back, his chair against the wall and his can resting on his eye. "Been better. Not bleeding. 'S a good fight."

"Did you see my girl lay out those two assholes?" Sam asked, grinning fondly and then wincing again.

"Which one's your girl?" Han asked, rolling his head toward Sam. "Not the one dressed like a fancy...well, fancy?"

"The blonde with the tattoo on her arm?" Mal guessed, slopping alcohol into glasses. Sam nodded and Mal shook his head with admiration. "She just waded right into those Alliance fellas like she was born to be a Browncoat. By the by, the fancy lady flies with me, and I'd appreciate you not speculatin' on her style of dress, though it is true she sleeps with folk for pay."

"Cheers," Han said. "Not the type to throw a punch, then. I think I did see that blonde, though. Hell of a right cross on her. She do this often?"

"If there's a bar fight, she'll be in it," Sam said.

"Leia'll have got them out on the Falcon," Han said with certainty. He picked up his glass, swigged, and made a face. "Anyone who deserved to get out, anyhow."

Sam laughed. "Kara takes care of herself."

Mal smiled. "So does Inara, 'specially since she got that nice little pistol that sits on her hip."

Han was looking around. "Nice boat. Where'd you get here, the local junkyard?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Mal said, slinging himself over a chair. "Got somethin' to say about her?"

"No, no," Han reassured him. "Gotten plenty of parts out of junk heaps myself. Leia calls the whole Falcon a junk heap."

"As long as she flies true," Mal said.

"Hell, half our fleet was supposed to be retired," Sam said. "We're a junk heap all our own."

"Well, here's to that," Mal said, raising his glass, his can still pressed to his cheek. "Still fightin', still flyin'."

They all clinked glasses and swigged down the harsh liquor.

"Oh, frak me," Sam says. "This is worse than that stuff from the bar."

"Jayne musta left his mudder's milk out again," Mal said, eyeing his glass. "We could go back and fight 'em for the rest."

"Come to think of it, why were we in that bar fight?" Han asked.

"It's Unification Day," Mal says, "when all good-hearted children rise up against the oppressive whore-sons who think they ground us down and made us come to heel."

"Ah, great," Han said, cheering up. "That's exactly the kind of fight I like."

"Sounds like every fight I've been in lately," Sam said. "Can't fault the company, though."

"You know, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship," Han says, and they all chuckle.  



End file.
